Prompt Fill Three!

[lucritus]

 Title: In The Silence of the Darkness - I Can't Pretend I'm Wide Awake, Afraid I Could Go Under
Authors: lucritus  and Seiki once more :3 and Seiki has sort of using her old LJ now. kiroji 
Rating: R for language, mentions of rape and violence
Pairing: Perry/Harry
Type: H/C again
Note: I write Harry, Seiki writes Perry. She also played Jessa and Lucas. I played Sam. Sam and Lucas are recurring characters of ours - drug dealers always and...always eventually end up dying together. :/ I sort of based Sam off of Rip from Less Than Zero, if anyone can tell. The title of the story is from "Silence of the Darkness" by Kamelot. This is also the longest prompt we've written so far!
Prompt: Perry freaks out when he rescues a blood-covered Harry from some kidnappers. It’s not Harry’s blood but still Perry becomes protective.

Harry could barely make out the room he was in. It was dark, it smelled, and there were voices. He had no idea where he was, or how long he'd been there, let alone if it was night or day. His head was pounding and he was pretty sure it wasn't a hangover. But there had been a party, right? Wasn't he at a party not too long ago? Where was Perry?

Harry moved to cradle his head in his hands, but found that they were tied up to a post of some sort. Shit. Now it all made sense. Did he always have to get kidnapped at parties? Fuck! He banged his had against the post in frustration, instantly regretting it. "Shit! Fuck, fuck, ow!"

If his kidnappers had forgotten him, they sure as hell remembered him now. While his ears were ringing, he still managed to hear someone sobbing somewhere in the darkness. Where those other voices were before, he guessed. Of course, he didn't hear them now; his own loud mouth must have made them go silent. But why?

The sound of sniffing through the darkness was the uncanny alert of another presence. Not just of the kidnappers - oh, no. This one was a victim, just like Harry. A victim who cried when hit, talked to, or even approached. Over the days that she'd been here, she'd been broken in, made a tweaked-out shell of what she'd been before her abduction.

And in the darkness, she couldn't tell that she was only about three to four feet away from Harry, tied up in the same manner and too deep in her fear to try freeing her shaking arms. One could smell the blood on her, something saying that in the darkness, someone decided to have a little fun with her, make her a toy.

And now she was broken and useless as she sat on the floor, head bowed over her torn garments and body.

Harry strained to listen to anything he could make out. Anything that would somehow make some sense as to why he was there. Unless he was being held there by the guys Perry and he had been trying to catch. They had been last seen with the girl their recent case was for. Well, if the sniffling not too far away was any indication that this was said girl, Harry just solved the case for Perry. Again. Her parents would be happy now, right? He just needed to figure out a way to get the both of them out of there.

He tried to inch his way around quietly, "Psst, hey, um, you happen to be, er," Fuck, what was her name? "Jessie, or something?" Harry wondered if she- if it was indeed a she - could even hear his whispering.

Harry didn't get to find out of course when another voice broke the silence, where a match was burning in front of his face. "We don't need you chatting with our guest, Lockhart." Harry squinted, the light burning his eyes. He had to have been in the dark for a while now. It was hard to readjust. How the hell did this guy know his name? "Unless you want to get the same treatment."

"The fuck-" Harry swallowed the rest of his remark when a blow was landed into his stomach and he was left coughing. Fuck, déjà vu. He needed to learn to shut up. Perry was not going to be amused if Harry came back with another missing finger, or worse.

Another sob ruptured next to Harry, the young woman gritting her teeth. Someone had known her name - or something close to it. She was so afraid of these men, though, that she could do little more than vocalize her presence by crying. For the sake of the man next to her, though, she tried to force something out.

"...J...Jessa...."

"What did I just say?" snapped the man who had hit Harry. There was a harsh smacking sound that followed and Harry winced inwardly. Jessa. Poor girl. These bastards.

"Hey, asshole, you must be a real fucking coward hitting a girl like that, or me for that matter, while we're tied up!" Harry couldn't see much anymore, the match having gone out, but he felt there was going to be another punch or kick coming very soon.

"Hey, all of you fuckheads, keep it down!" came the voice of a second man, more distant with carrying echoes from the other end of the room. "Fucking shut up so I can think! Don't make me come over there!"

His words didn't work on the girl, who had started crying again. Her hope was smashed. "I'm sorry..." she wheezed over a frightened voice. "I'm sorry...I won't do it again..."

"Shut up!" the voice growled again, "or you're looking at round four!"

"Can't we just kill the bitch already? Her whining gives me a headache," came the voice who hadn't hit Harry back yet. Not that Harry was complaining. "He's more valuable anyway, right? His fag friend will probably pay anything for him. God only knows why."

Harry bristled at that, the urge to start yelling insults burning inside him, but he knew it wouldn't get him anywhere. Nowhere good, anyway. But fuck it. "My 'fag friend' isn't going to pay you jack shit because he's going to find you fucking losers and you'll be welcome to the humiliation that a 'fag' just kicked your ass!"

Okay, that really had been a bad idea. He swore he felt a pair of ribs crack. He gagged, the taste of blood at the tip of his tongue.

"Shut. The fuck. Up."

For once Harry decided to listen. If only for the girl's sake. Damn it, where was Perry? He was looking for him, right?

By now, the girl called Jessa was shaking like a leaf, completely terrorized. To say that she'd been contemplating her own death would not have been inaccurate, but she didn't need to be done that favor by the men who had taken and deflowered her. She did want to die - just not here, not yet.

"Please...please, I'll be quiet...!" she whispered hoarsely. "Just stop-"

"Everyone, shut up! You're giving me a bloody headache, and you're going to like me even less if you make me come over there and silence you myself!" crowed the second voice. "I said shut up, and I mean it!" By the rasp in his shout, it was clear that he was serious. Furious, even. "Sam, stop fucking around with them and get back over here!"

Harry coughed, his chest hurting like hell. He wanted to double over, but his position made it very hard. He felt tears stinging his eyes and he fought them back. He had been through worse. He could handle this...Perry would come. He always did. He would barge in any time now and save both of them.

Harry leaned his head back against the post, catching his breath. At least his eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness. But when he saw the extent Jessa was in, he wanted to cry. When he saw what he could of Sam leave them, grumbling and cursing quietly to himself, Harry tried to whisper again. "H-hey," he winced. "Don't worry...we're both going to get out of here, okay? I promise."

Jessa's only response was a quiet sob. What had once been an intricate hairstyle was now hanging in sweaty, bloody strands around her face, where tears streaked slowly down each cheek. "I-I just...want to go home...and be with...with Mom and Dad..." Her voice, too, was hardly above a whisper, if that; she didn't want those men hearing her, hurting her again.

Harry forced a smile, trying to put some lightness in the horrible situation. "You will. I'm one of the guys who's been looking for you. Your parents called on me and Perry...things may not be looking so good, but Perry's got our backs. Okay?" He glanced to the other dark part of the room, squinting. He couldn't really make out the other two men. It was still too dark.

"...Okay..."Jessa couldn't even look at him, too ashamed days ago after what they had done to her to look anyone in the eye again. So someone was coming. A world of good it had done this man to find her: did this Perry even know where he was? Was it possible that they'd even make it back out alive?

The young girl, though not for the first time, shivered violently. She wanted badly to talk to this new neighbor of hers, but with her kidnappers in the room, there was no way she could pass any information along. But the case might not have been lost: if they were awake together, they would sleep together.

Jessa dared to hope; they might have a chance.

Harry sighed, glad to at least give the girl some kind of hope. How old was she anyway? Didn't Perry tell him she was twelve? He could make out most of her, but not really. The darkness was really starting to get on his nerves. All he could see was how terrible a state she was in. He wondered just how much longer she could last in an environment like this. Or how long she had already. Had she been missing for a month?

Apparently the normal police weren't doing their job. Perry and Harry sure as hell were, though. Had to, otherwise they wouldn't have snatched Harry. Got too close for their comfort? People should learn by now that kidnapping Harry was a very, very bad idea.

"You..." The sound of Jessa's voice was one hard to make out, even from the closed-in distance, but still, she tried to speak, hesitant as she was. "You shouldn't...shouldn't have come here..." she sniffed.

"Well, uhh..." Harry paused to think of his wording. A first for him, really. He hadn't necessarily come there on his own free will. "I was kinda dragged unconscious here. I was only at a party with Perry. Sure, we were sorta looking around for them. They just found me first. I guess. I can't really remember all that clearly," he whispered, trying to keep his voice low.

"Party...?" she asked.

"Yeah. We found them at a party. Mostly college kids," Harry said, shrugging. "These guys here, I don't know if you know, but they're drug dealers. And they, well, were dealing...drugs? There at the party."

A sniff pressed through the second's silence. "I-I know... that's why I'm...here." Jessa flinched at her own words, knowing that if she had not reminded herself simply by saying, waking up after another restless nap would had done so instead.

Harry scrunched his face, disbelieving. "You weren't dealing with these creeps, were you?"

Another quiet sob came next. "No..."

Harry cringed. Now he felt like a jerk. "Oh, sorry...why do they have you, then? What happened?"

"My...my brother, he's...he's really addicted to it, and he...ran up his credit with...with those two, and..." It was clear by the sound of Jessa's young voice that she was struggling to keep her composure, and it was slowly slipping away from her, leaving her lost. "He...he didn't pay them when they came...so they took me to make sure...he would..." Her breath came heavily as the last few words spilled through her lips; it was difficult to admit that anyone had landed her in this mess.

Harry frowned, sympathetic, as he looked at what he could see of her. "I'm really sorry...we'll make sure to get everything settled out. We just have to wait." He'd have to tell Perry about the brother bit, if his boss hadn't already figured it out.

"He didn't mean for all this to...you know...happen..." she said as her throat trembled with her tears. "He didn't have the money...and he couldn't ask Mom or Dad for it..." Jessa couldn't believe how badly she wanted to wipe her eyes, even though no one could really see her that well. "They keep...calling the house to-to make negotiations..."

"You can't negotiate with these kinds of people," Harry said quietly with a sigh. "That's why your parents called us. We're experts in this kind of thing." Well, Perry was, but she didn't need to know about that.

"I think it might be too late..." Jessa breathed out in a shaky whisper. "They told them that they were...they're gonna kill me tonight if he doesn't pay up..."

Harry groaned, lightly hitting the back of his head again on the post, wincing slightly. His chest was still painful and it hurt to breathe. Something was definitely broken. "Well, in that case, knowing Perry...he'll be here way before they get the chance. He has gay intuition or something..."

Footsteps in the darkness. Once again, they were being approached, and once again, Jessa's voice struck sharply in the air, following a harsh slap against her skin.

"You're talking too much. Shut up, or I'll kill you right now." Her whimper was her response. "Sam, get over here. We're penning these two up in the back. No one to hear 'em scream there."

"Sounds good to me," Sam said, boots making a rather ominous sound, or at least Harry figured the guy was trying to give that impression. "Better not try to fight this," he said with a smirk when he got closer to Harry.

"You know you two are making a huge mistake, right?" Harry said rather loudly and obnoxiously. Sam glared. Harry knew he was pushing it, but he didn't care. Beating on a girl was just unacceptable. "You're messing with Fag and New Yorker."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah? Well it so happens I'm from New York too, pal. And my bud Lucas here is from New Zealand."

Harry didn't look impressed. "Our tag is catchier."

"What?" Sam stared at him, baffled.

"I mean, what would you two call yourselves? Kangaroo and New Yorker? That's really gay."

A pair of brass knuckles quickly made their way to the back of Harry's head with a good deal of force, the voice of aforementioned Lucas being the same gruff, angry fellow that had just struck the girl. "You talk too much. Take him back to the pen. I've got business to talk with this one."

Jessa flinched as her binds started to be unwound. "Please, don't-"

"Shut up, and do what you're told!" Lucas growled as he continued working.

Harry let out a collection of obscenities, mostly a bunch of different ways to say "Fuck" that probably wasn't even proper English while Sam dragged him off. "Have fun there, boss," Sam said, kneeing Harry in the ribs.

Harry wheezed and fought back a cry of pain, the taste of blood rising in his mouth again. 'Damn it, Perry,' he thought, fear turning in his stomach, making him sick. 'We need you...'

One final phone call and a series of desperate screams later, Lucas, a tall man with slightly lengthy brown hair and mostly dark and casual clothing, came dragging the body of a blonde girl who appeared to be no older than fourteen. In the time that had transpired, Harry appeared to have eventually lost consciousness in the rugged cell that the two abductors had constructed together out of lot of metal and God knew what else.

"Has he made a lot of noise, mate?" Lucas finally asked as he hefted the girl quite roughly to the cage; he looked tired, and she was absolutely filthy with her own blood, skin mangled and riddled with more wounds that hadn't been there before. To him, that simply seemed to be a job well done.

"Nah, he's been quiet. Only been conscious for the past few minutes," Sam said, smirking. "Nice job, buddy." He looked Jessa over, eyebrow raised.

Harry groaned and held his head, careful not too move much because of his ribs. He was still convinced they were broken and didn't want to make them worse. Seeing Jessa's condition, or who had to be, made his blood run cold. Was she dead? He promised they'd get out of there - he couldn't live with himself if he broke it.

Why was he suddenly reminded of his niece? He felt like crying again.

After spreading the door ajar just long enough to toss Jessa's figure into the cage next to the man with the damaged ribs, he slammed it shut again and proceeded to lock it up with a long, heavy chain and stashed the key across the room on a shelf. After all, nobody but the felons needed it; neither could anyone but the felons reach it.

"Good," he groaned, swiping his bloody hands down over his black jeans. "I'm tired. Let's get some coffee. We've got a girl to whack in about two hours." On those words, he walked out of the room and into the hallway, taking a left turn before disappearing from sight.

Jessa simply groaned from the floor, her fingers twitching as she tried to make sure they were still there. Her whole body was numb with shock that was quickly wearing off and reversing into extreme pain. For their safety and her momentary inability, though, she didn't say anything, waiting for Sam to go join his cohort before she dared to open her mouth.

Sam studied them for a moment, brown eyes narrowed. Eventually he grew bored and brushed his dirty blonde hair back and shook his head. "Yeah, about time..." he muttered before going off to follow his "pal".

Harry was glad to see them gone and ignoring his injuries, crawled over closer to Jessa and moved to hold her close to him for comfort and support. "Hey..." he said, keeping his voice steady.

A good part of Jessa's face had started to bruise on the patches that were visible beneath the rough, red coating of what had once been sailing through her veins. The most abundant of these flows, though, were coming out of her nose and one corner of her mouth. When moved, though, she couldn't even wince.

"...It hurts..." Beneath the bloody hair, a pair of baby-blue eyes peeked out at him, glazed and afraid.

"I know..." he said gently, brushing her soiled hair gently. God, she even looked like his niece, albeit older...but still. He wanted so badly to get out of this miniature prison and beat those bastards senseless, but he of course still didn't know how to fight worth shit. He didn't care that she was getting blood on him. He was mostly concerned with just how much blood she lost. "Everything will be okay," he whispered. It hurt to talk too loud.

Jessa quietly agreed in her mind. Whether it would be okay by getting out of there and going home, seeing her family again, or simply by passing way and not having to worry about what they would do to her next. But it felt so good, even in this dire hour, just to have somebody telling her that.

She clung to his shirt and cried quietly.

Harry continued to pet her hair, keeping his voice soft and reassuring. He didn't want to admit to her that he was also trying to reassure himself as well. He needed to keep on believing that they would get out of there. Preferably alive.

Two gunshots. Two. One for each perpetrator. It echoed in from the front of the building, nearby where the two had been tied up.

Jessa jumped and screamed, sending shocks of pain through her body when she even dared to move, no matter how involuntarily. She hadn't been expecting it - but who really had? In a bout of intensified fear, she stayed close to Harry, squeezing her eyes shut and trying not to think about it.

Harry winced when she had jumped, mainly because she had bumped against his sore ribs, but he tried not to make a big deal out of it. She had every right to react like that. What the hell was going on? "Shh, shh, we have to be quiet..." he whispered, trying to calm her down so she wouldn't scream again.

The echoes of the scream soon died away, leaving the two in dead silence with one pair of footsteps headed in their direction. There was no voice, though. Whoever was walking may not have wanted to alert other possible parties as to his or her location on the premises.

The gait, however, was oddly familiar to someone in that room...

Harry froze for a moment, recognition fluttering across his eyes and soon his cautious expression turned to a very relieved, happy one. "Perry! Over here!" He instantly regretted shouting, his chest paining him to the point that he started coughing, turning his head away from Jessa. "Fuck...ow..."

The footsteps stopped immediately. "Harry!" Indeed, it was as the caged man had suspected. Within seconds, the portly detective had made it into the room, assessing the situation as he ran into the room. Of course, the first person he saw was not the blonde girl who was still bleeding profusely. It was on the man who bore some of her blood. "Fuck, what happened here?!"

Harry grimaced, trying to form a light hearted grin. "Let's talk about this later, huh? She needs serious medical attention..." he winced, trying to sit up with Jessa still held carefully in his arms.

This was the first time, of course, that Perry had noticed her, and when he saw her in combination with the wince Harry gave as he sat up...

"Oh, Fuck." He really couldn't stop himself. Not that he usually did. "Don't move. Where's the fucking key to this mess?" he asked as he pulled out his cell and made a quick dial to the emergency dispatcher. Such a handy three-number call.

Harry tried to think back, even though it hadn't been too long since he had Jessa with her in the cage. His head was pounding though, joining the throbbing pain in his ribs. "Uh...I think he put it on a shelf somewhere...if you can't find it, just give me something to work with and I can get us out." He wiggled his five fingers with a small smile while he still held Jessa with his other arm. "I'm a magician and all that. I can work some magic."

Perry nodded, not answering as the dispatcher had suddenly started talking on the phone. And he was talking back twice as fast, searching the shelf for the key until he found it and picked it up. A skeleton key - they didn't make them like that anymore. The lock might have even been pickable, if that was the case, but from the condition that the victim and his friend were in, he supposed he could understand why they hadn't tried.

As she lay there on the cell floor with Harry, Jessa's vision began to swirl in front of her, the room growing dark as she fought to keep her eyes open. No, she had to stay awake...she just had to! She had to be awake to see Mom and Dad, wherever they were going to come from. She had to see her brother and tell him that it was all okay...

She suddenly slumped in Harry's one-armed grip, cheek falling against his hand as she fell into a cold faint.

Harry felt the sudden weight on his hold, noticing that Jessa was now out cold. Panic and worry filled him and he tried to shake her gently. "Jessa? Jessa, wake up," he said, raising his voice a little, despite the discomfort it created in his chest. He fought a cough.

Almost immediate, Perry was knelt in front of the cage, jamming the key into the old-style lock and undoing it before snaking the chain from around the bars that made up the door and the walls. In the meantime suffice it to say that "fuck" had become a very prominent word in his vocabulary. He looked stressed to the teeth over the entire situation.

"The paramedics are on the way. Cops, too..." He pulled the door back and crawled in to pull Jessa out of the cage and give Harry some breathing room to get out, too. "Let's just get the fuck out of here. What the fuck did they do to you?!"

Harry tried not to wheeze, but was thankful for no longer having the pressure against his chest. He had a bit of trouble crawling out of the cage, but managed to get onto his feet, fighting the urge to double over. He mainly held onto the cage. "Nothing much...just an abused head and cracked ribs, probably...nothing you hadn't given me a few times for being an idiot," he joked forcefully. He hadn't really realized how much blood was on him.

And that was exactly what Perry was staring at. "Holy mother of fuck." His eyes darted between the girl and his partner. Somehow, he had gathered that the blood was pretty much all Jessa's, but just seeing his friend covered in it...

Something secret in him was quite disturbed. "Can you walk?"

Harry nodded, wiping sweat from his forehead with his somewhat bloody sleeve. He cringed afterwards. "Yeah...I think so. Haven't really tried." He tried to straighten up and take a step, instantly regretting it when a pain shot through him that it nearly blinded him with white. He quickly grabbed a hold of the cage before he dropped to the ground. "M-maybe not," he gasped. "You take her to the ambulance...come back for me later. I'll just rest here for a bit..."

"No," Perry said almost forcefully. "I'm not leaving you back here by yourself. We're going outside, and we're fucking going together." Though just how he planned to manage that was another question. Within a couple of seconds, though, he did come up with something. "Lean on my shoulder." Somehow, the issue of weight didn't even bother him. What mattered was that they all got out of there.

Harry forced a brief smile. He knew he couldn't argue with Perry when he was like this. He got as close to Perry as possible and leaned, trying not to lose his footing. He winced quietly, trying not to worry Perry further. "So, uh, how long was I missing exactly?"

"About seven-and-a-half hours," Perry said in disbelief as he started walking slowly so that Harry would have as little trouble keeping up as possible. "Tried tracing the fucking call God only knows how many times. Nailed him on the last call, though - hung up a second too late, and we got a trace on them." He wouldn't admit to being scared that he'd arrived too late - Perry was Perry and far too proud for that.

"Huh," Harry said with a slight tilt to his head, ignoring the continuous throb of a headache. He wondered if he had actually bled from having his head pounded by brass knuckles. Probably. Good thing his hair was thick. He didn't want Perry to notice and have a fit over him. "Glad it wasn't, uh, five days or something. That would have sucked." He formed a teasing smile. "You missed me that much after only seven hours?"

"Don't even fucking say that, Harry. Five days. Jesus Christ..." The detective moved along at that continually slow and steady pace. "If you ever say that again, you're going to find one of my statues in your room..."

Harry formed a mock pout and rested his head slightly on Perry's shoulder, watching his balance. "Sheesh, Mr. Touchy, I'm just kidding...you wouldn't dare put one of those things in my room. I'd never get any sleep and you'd have an annoying insomniac bugging you every hour of the night. So really, you'd be punishing yourself." He should really stop talking. His chest was hurting again and he could not for the life of him get rid of the metallic taste in his mouth.

Perry couldn't really look at Harry when he answered, his muttered "Precisely..." coming out under his breath as he lead Harry and carried the unconscious girl out into the moonlight. A clear sky with the full, silvery disc above them - it seemed too beautiful to be standing out there with Harry again, all the more so as he had earlier been so terrified he'd lost him when their connection had been broken at the party.

In the distance, the wail of sirens approached. "About fucking time..." he said, interrupting his own thoughts for the sake of not becoming like every other gay guy he'd ever met. The kind that like to stand and watch sunsets, glad to be alive with their partner beside them.

He supposed that last part wouldn't have suited him so badly, come to think of it.

"I'd say," Harry said rather tiredly as he lifted his head up off of Perry's shoulder, a little bit dazed. His head felt a little fuzzy. He smiled up at the night sky. "Pretty," he mumbled. "Looks like we really got her out of here after all...I'm glad. I promised her that she'd be okay, you know..." He was finding it a little hard to keep his eyes open. Odd.

Perry wished that Harry hadn't done that. He wasn't exactly a carrier of a medical degree, but Jessa looked anything but good: she hadn't even regained consciousness yet. As the sirens came into view and came speeding down their venue, he pulled Harry back just a little, noticing the look on his face. "You alright?"

"Jus'a lil tired," Harry slurred, fighting to keep his eyes open. He tried not to slip and lose his footing, using one arm to steady himself by grabbing onto Perry's arm. "Head's a little...uh...dizzy...m'fine, though..."

"Harry, don't you fucking dare pass out," Perry warned. He didn’t' have the arms to catch him, and it would look pretty bad to have dropped a young teenager. He looked a little relieved, though, when two ambulances pulled up in front of the building, followed by an entire slew of squad cars. Almost immediately, the area was being taped off, examined, condemned, and anything else that a man could think to do with that horrible place.

Just as quickly, a paramedic took Jessa from Perry, who gave the man a nod and ushered Harry to the back of the other vehicle. "Come on. Time to get seen."

"She'll be okay, right?" Harry asked, a little more alert as he was led. "Cuz I promised...I mean, it's good she's finally out of that shit hole, right?"

"Yes, Harry, it's a good thing we got her out of there. Now come on and get into the damn ambulance." He'd be riding with him, of course. He'd gotten out of a cop car and walked two blocks to get to the location - he didn't have a way out unless he wanted to stay with the cops. Which he refused to.

Two paramedics, hearing this, leaned out and started carefully lifting Harry aboard and onto a stretcher, one beginning a superficial exam while the other began asking him questions. Neither seemed to trust the fact that he looked drowsy, either. If he'd sustained a concussion, it would be disastrous to actually let him fall asleep.

Harry was not liking all these questions and attention. It was making him nervous and it annoyed him. "Perry," he half whined, wincing. "Can you tell them to leave me alone? I have a headache." He was obviously pouting and he was really tired. He didn't see why he taking a nap was a bad thing. He fell unconscious twice already. He woke up both times. Wouldn't rest be a good thing for him right about now?

"As long as you stay awake and let them examine you," Perry told him. "You're not fucking putting yourself in danger after I worked my ass off figuring out where you were."

"It's not like I could have done anything...my cell phone is probably destroyed now," Harry muttered. "You owe me a new one, since you left me at the party and got me kidnapped." He was joking of course, but he doubted Perry found that all too funny. He wished he hadn't said anything.

Perry was silent at that point. True, the last thing he'd wanted to do was think back on what had happened. "Oh, what-fucking-ever, Harry..." he finally muttered. "I'll get a new phone tomorrow, but you'll have to survive without it for tonight."

"I bet Harmony's worried sick. She called, like, fifty times or something before they tossed it. Unless that was you calling...?" Harry asked, trying to lighten the current mood, smiling teasingly.

"Maybe about two percent of those calls were hers..." Perry admitted.

"Riiight," Harry grinned cheekily. "I'll take your word for it."

For four days, Perry refused to leave Harry's room. Four. Fucking. Days. He sat in that same chair by that same bed all day and night in quiet wonderment that everything was straightening out.

Well, almost everything.

It was for little of his own detached personal reasons that he sat quietly today, the majorities of his depression for the sake of Harry. These days had been looking good for the two of them.

Harry noticed the silence and the obvious heaviness of a dark mood in Perry. He sat up, trying not to move too much and stress himself. He frowned. "Okay, who died?"

It was in Perry's nature to be blunt. So he was. "Jessa."

"That's not even funny, Perry," Harry said, his tone strangely serious and hurt.

The detective pinched the bridge of his nose, his own voice staying low. "I'm serious, Harry." He sighed. "Jessa passed away early this morning..."

"No way," Harry snapped defensively. "She's fine!" Forgetting or just not carrying about his healing ribs, which were, in fact, broken, he started shifting himself out of the bed. "Which room is she at?" It was more of a demand than a question. His voice was a tad shaky.

Immediately, Perry stood up, completely indisposed about stopping him from moving. "Harry, don't!" he severed. "She's in room four-fifteen, but it's no use!"

"Whatever, Perry," Harry argued, "I'll show you that she is perfectly fine and in that room recovering." Stubborn as always, he made his way across the room, managing not to fall as he reached for the door to steady himself. "You'll see..." he muttered more to himself as he forced his way down the hall.

Perry couldn't believe this. He couldn't fucking believe this at all.

"Harry!" he shouted, starting out of the room and after him. "What the fuck! Where the hell do you think you're going ?!"

"I'm going to her room, obviously!" Harry shouted back, not caring if he brought attention to himself. Let the people fucking stare. He was going to prove to Perry that Jessa was perfectly all right. Well, at least getting better.

But when he got to room four-fifteen, he was not greeted by the sight of a young fourteen year old girl, but a confused old man possibly in his fifties, on a ventilator machine.

He stepped back, muttering most likely a thousand apologies. His first thought was that he had gone into the wrong room, but a second glance at the number it had was the correct one. He swallowed a lump in his throat and continued to back up until he was pressed against no one other than Perry.

He looked up, tears flooding in his eyes. "But...s-she was going to be okay...she was..."

For once in his life, Perry couldn't say a damned thing. He hadn't been particularly close to the kid, but to see Harry this torn up inside about her death simply killed him. He could do nothing but wrap his arms around him.

"She's fine now, Harry...she's not in pain anymore..." Keeping the other man pulled close, Perry couldn't help but feel that he'd also failed. He'd brought her back. He'd brought her back alive. But she hadn't stayed that way.

Harry choked in a sob and turned around to hide his face in Perry's chest, his fingers clutching to his jacket. "She...she didn't deserve what happened...it's not right. Perry." He wanted to hit something out of frustration, but he just couldn't. Not with Perry being the only target. "I wanted to save her...she was so much like her..." He never, ever wanted to see his niece in that position. He would rather die first.

Perry breathed out a painfully long breath, unable to find the right words for what felt like the longest time. "I know you did, Harry...and you did rescue her. Realize..." he nearly stumbled on his words, almost brought to tears by the situation alone. "Realize that you couldn't have stopped her from dying...but she was reunited with her family before she went..."

Harry knew that Perry was right, but he was too upset to really think clearly on it. He would in time, but the guilt he felt was killing him inside. "I promised her, Perry..." he half whispered, half cried. He couldn't stop shaking. "I should have fought back more - I could have stopped it from happening. But I didn't!"

"Harry, you were both tied up. There was nothing you could do." He continued to hug the sobbing man to his chest. "You did what you were able to, and that's what counts."

"But it wasn't enough," Harry said quietly, unable to look at Perry as he kept his face buried in the bigger man's chest. It would hurt less in time, but he didn't want it to. It would mean that he didn't care anymore. He tried to stop crying, he really did. He didn't want to soak Perry's nice suit anymore than he already had. "I'm sorry..." he sniffed, fighting back another sob as he just rested against Perry, clinging to him in support. All the crying was hurting his chest, but he ignored it.

"It's okay..." Perry said quietly. Harry could soak the suit as much as he had to, so long as it meant that he would let him protect him.

Harry lifted his head to glance back at the door and wished he hadn't. He fought back the tears and tried to look at Perry without breaking down again. "Can we go back home now?" He only wanted to stay there longer than necessary to see her recovery. Now it just seemed pointless. He couldn't help but feel empty from the loss of Jessa. He didn't even get to say goodbye to her. Maybe that was better for the both of them in the long run, though. Harry didn't know if he could have handled that.

"Sure, Harry...we can go..." The detective was heavy with both of their grievings, but for the sake of the man who needed him most, he tried to stay strong-faced.

If he ever dared to be in a room without Harry again, he'd cry alone later.

"Okay," Harry muttered quietly, still holding onto Perry for comfort. Of course, he didn't want to overstay his welcome and loosened his grip a bit. He was ready to follow Perry, but he hoped the next stop would be to get his clothes. Walking around in a hospital gown made him feel a lot more vulnerable than he would have liked. "Thank you, Perry..." he started, looking up at him again and trying to smile. "For saying all that...I know you're right, I just..." He stared down at Perry's chest again. "It still hurts..."

"I know..." he whispered. "It'll hurt for a while." Stroking some of the stray hairs away from Harry's face, he looked down at him and vowed. "But I'll protect you."

Harry's lip twitched a little to form a tiny smile and nodded his head. "Yeah...I know you will." He leaned into the Perry's hand. He had to chuckle somewhat. "We should, uh...go. I bet people are wondering what the fuck's going on." He tried to put up a front, not wanting to dwell on it any more right now. Not in public.

"Probably," Perry stated, starting to lead him away. "You know what, though?"

"What?"

"Fuck 'em."

"I would rather not."

"Shut up, Harry."